Charlie Goes to Jail
by Bee.Eh.Vee
Summary: An inmate discovers an information pipeline in his prison and Deeks is sent in undercover to plug it.
1. Chapter 1

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** Hi all! It's been awhile, I know, but I finally carved out some time to write. Also, in my defense, this story was in the works before Sam and Callen went undercover at a prison on the actual show. Great minds think alike?

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><p>Wilson Clark settled into one of the chairs at the table. He gazed around the room, taking in the eclectic mix of furniture. He'd spotted two cameras and was under no illusion that someone wasn't watching him right now. The kind of people he was meeting were known for their skittishness when they met people like him.<p>

A taciturn man had let him in the building, pointed towards the table and retreated down a hallway. Clark hadn't expected a warm welcome so he wasn't surprised when he wasn't offered any hospitality. That's what happens when you force a meeting while holding on to the reasons for it. His position gave him certain privileges but he still had to burn a favour to get to this spot. He hoped he could garner a new one after he laid out what he knew. A quick glance at his watch told him that he was still early. He almost wanted to throw a wave at one of the cameras, but didn't, aware that he wasn't on firm footings here.

Exactly five minutes late two men entered the room. Several lines of inquiry flooded Clark's mind. Was the five minutes deliberate or a result of traffic? He wondered if these two were able to make the decisions he would present or were they merely gophers for the bosses. Although, he saw intelligence in their eyes as they approached and he became more confident that he was being taken seriously.

The men grabbed chairs across from him and sat down. They silently stared at Clark who took it in stride; he knew this play well. The difference here was that he wasn't going to be holding anything back anymore. He couldn't. His only problem was to try to ensure the safety of his source, and he hadn't quite worked out a solution to that problem yet.

"This is a matter of both national security and the protection of one man." He broke the silence.

The men made eye contact and Clark watched as they seemed to have a conversation without speaking. The one tipped his head to the other who nodded back.

"We're going to need some more detail." The one who nodded squinted at him as he spoke while the other leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

"As the message I sent said, I have all the information you'll need, Mr…" Clark raised an eyebrow.

"Agent." The man bit off.

"Agent…" Clark tried, but all he got was stony silence. He figured as much, it was time to give up what he knew. "As a JAG lawyer I can represent either side depending on what I'm assigned. I've been in this business for a long time; worked my way up the ranks to where I stand now." He lifted a shoulder as to bring attention to his rank. "There was this sailor that I defended on an embezzlement charge. Well, defended isn't the right word, he knew what he did and I pushed to get the lightest sentence possible in return for him pleading guilty. I received a call from him a few weeks ago with some serious accusations."

"What's his name?" The one leaning back sat up straight.

"Not yet." Clark shook his head. He wanted to make sure they understood the gravity of the situation first. "He's serving his time in the local Navy jail."

A smirk formed on the one man's face as he rubbed his thumb, "We know it well."

"He's noticed something." Clark took a deep breath. "There are several guards who are passing messages for some of the terrorist organizations."

That caught the men off-guard. They had another telepathic conversation.

"I have proof." Clark opened his briefcase and pulled out the only evidence he could dig up without tipping his hand. It was a piece of paper that his client had risked his life to pickpocket off of one of the guards. The effort his client had put into contacting Clark and then arranging to pass it off had taken months. Clark ground his teeth at the amount of information that had been funneled out in that time. He pushed it across the table and watched as they skimmed it. They could clearly both read it as their lips moved as their eyes moved. He breathed an internal sigh of relief – he'd come to the right place.

The one pointed to himself "I'm Callen. This is Agent Hanna." He pointed at the man who once again leaned back. "Walk us through what else you know."

"He noticed it a while back but it took him time to figure out what was going on. I got the paper from him under the pretense that his case was under review, but unfortunately that excuse has run its course. On top of that, he's too scared for his life if either the guards or the inmates discover he knows to tell just anyone."

"Who's 'just anyone'?" Agent Callen narrowed his eyes.

Clark sighed. "Lawyers are out. You don't know who's going to be on what rotation so it's possible that one of the guilty guards could be on visitor duty on the day you visit. Our consultations are supposed to be privileged, but the insulation in those walls is getting old. Sound seeps out."

Agent Hanna frowned. "We can't go in as agents and tip them off."

Callen twisted to face his partner. "I'm not confident we could pull him out and bring him here. Obviously we'd have to send him back at some point and the same inmates are going to be there. What are we going to do, put them in jail?" A dark humour laced his last statement.

"Send someone in?" Hanna shrugged. "We've done it before."

Clark felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders. He was dealing with professionals.

"Guard?"

"Might look a bit weird a guard focussing on one inmate."

"So inmate, then."

"You're out. Janvier's there. You two have a history."

"So are you then. Remember, he blew your cover,"

"Blye's out, she's a she."

"Guess that leaves Deeks."

"We're not sending Eric."

"Don't think Granger would go?"

That drew a scoffing laugh from Agent Hanna. They both turned back to Clark. Agent Callen drilled him with a look. "We need everything you know."

Clark picked up a file folder. "This is everything." He gave a sheepish shrug. "I'm old-school, I like paper."

Callen hefted the stack. "Clearly." He tucked it under his arm. "We'll be in touch if we need you."

They shook hands and Clark moved towards the door he was point at. The sun felt good on his face as he walked to the car. He silently wished them luck.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN: **Thanks to OhBuddy66, Sprig, TMVH50, new adventures, Sweet Lu, Megth, wotumba1, knirbenrots, ZivaSofia, and Guest M for the reviews on the first outing, I appreciate the interest in the story! Now for the next part…

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><p>"It's too bad, I thought he was one of the good ones." Callen sauntered over to his desk.<p>

Sam shook his head. "Sometimes you just don't know."

Kensi looked up from her computer. "What's happening?"

"Deeks is going to jail."

The man in question's head snapped up. "Pardon?"

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't get caught next time."

"What did I do?" Deeks was mentally scrolling through his latest activities.

"To be fair, it wasn't him." Callen started playing with a pen. "He should really learn to control his alter-ego Charlie."

Understanding dawned and Deeks sighed. "We need to make a stop before. I have to load up on some good food first."

"That's what you're worried about?" Kensi furrowed her brows at her partner. "The food?"

Deeks shrugged, "There's the harassment from fellow inmates, which…" he waved his hands in the general direction of Sam and Callen, "the lack of personal space, which…" he smirked at Kensi, "being told what you where you go and what you can and cannot do, which…" he looked towards Hetty's office and coughed 'motorcycle' under his breath "and no beach, which I've barely seen lately anyway."

"You were at the beach last week." Callen pointed out.

"Because I was chasing a suspect off a pier into the ocean. It does not count if the swim costs you your favourite pair of sunglasses."

"Are you actually saying that working here is like being in prison?" Kensi glared at her partner.

He ducked his head and picked at the edge of his desk "…no." The corner of his mouth turned up, "it just makes me very adaptable to the upcoming circumstances."

Callen narrowed his eyes, "Have you ever been in jail?"

Deeks pointed at Sam "There was that time I was stuck in a cell beside him."

Sam shook his head. "Doesn't count, that was just lock-up at the precinct, it's completely different."

"I would disagree, especially when you're sharing that space with 10 other guys and a schedule has been formed so everyone can have a turn puking in the toilet."

Kensi had started shaking her head and was waving her hands in front of her. "No, no more talking about that." She turned to hiss at Callen, "Why do you ask these questions, you know he's going to tell the whole story now."

"That was quite the bachelor party…almost didn't make it to the wedding the next day…but she's forgiven me now, but if she knew why we were really late and that it wasn't because 'we got lost', she might hate me again." Deeks stared into the distance and smirked.

Callen dropped the file they received from the JAG lawyer in front of Deeks. "You have to make contact with this man." He pointed to the picture when Deeks flipped open the folder. "He has information on some crooked guards that are passing messages for an unknown terrorist organization. The lawyer's not confident about his former client's chances at survival with the knowledge he has. We need to get the information, deal with it, and make sure he's safe."

Deeks ran his thumb over the stack of paper. "There's a lot here."

"He's thorough." Callen hitched a shoulder up.

"And tenacious." Sam looked at the file, "From what I heard he did everything but get a direct order from SecNav to get that meeting."

"Can I hire him to get Charlie out of his jail sentence?" Deeks slid a glance toward Sam.

Callen tapped the top paper while hiding a smile. "Get reading, you go in tomorrow."

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><p>Sam sat across from Deeks and watched him where he splayed across the bench. Callen was driving the prisoner transfer vehicle that Hetty had stashed in the back of one of her storehouses. Sam and Callen were dressed as guards and Deeks had a prison jumpsuit with the logo from the jail Charlie had been sent to by the fake FBI Agent Granger back in Hawaii. The chains and handcuffs lay in a pile on the floor and Callen would give the signal to put them on. Sam's wrinkled nose and probing stare was being decidedly ignored by Deeks. Sam had decided that as hard as it was to get Deeks to stop talking, sometimes it was harder to get him talking.<p>

"So?" Sam said over the hum of the wheels and the creaks of the vehicle.

Deeks cocked an eyebrow.

Sam clenched his jaw and a vein popped in his neck. "You ready?"

Deeks pushed himself up straight. "I read the file, memorized the information Eric prepared on Charlie's previous 'jail sweet home'. I know what the guy looks like and worked out a few ways to drop those code words into a conversation." The team's respect level for the lawyer had risen when Deeks found a document that listed a series of code words that had been decided upon so the inmate would know his lawyer Clark had sent the contact. "Bartimaeus Hoover and his secrets will be safe." He shook his head, "what a handle to go through life with."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "You do realize that there will be people in there that we've arrested. You could have your cover blown a number of different ways."

A sigh hissed through Deeks' teeth. "I'll be fine. Charlie's a little different than the detective that would've arrested these criminals."

"I'm just not comfortable with sending you in with no method of communication." Sam crossed his arms. "All you have is phone privileges."

"I promise I won't get myself shanked in the shower." Deeks monotoned.

Sam pulled a hand out and pointed at Deeks. "You call every day. This isn't going to be a long-term op; in and out as fast as you can."

Deeks mumbled something under his breath that sounded somewhat similar to 'yes dad'.

Sam chose to ignore the mumbling. "Speaking of Charlie, are you good with going under as him?"

Deeks hitched a shoulder up, "It's not a complicated alias."

"Yeah, but your last outing as him was…" Sam searched for the right word, "eventful."

Deeks nearly laughed. That was putting it mildly – he'd been made as his alias during some routine information gathering and the events that followed were progressively dangerous until he was screaming obscenities at Granger. He was so sure in that moment that he was going to be fired. "I'll be fine; Charlie's essentially cranky and not a people-person."

"I'm still not happy with the lack of back-up." Sam's arms went crossed again and a frown was deepening furrows on his face.

Deeks bit his lip, not wanting to erode the progress the two of them had made by pointing out that before NCIS he was usually on his own in undercover operations. He just hoped that this new wave of concern was because Sam worried about him, not because he didn't trust him. He knew that it was more the former than the latter but a niggling doubt still made itself known.

Callen's call from the cab broke up any other conversation as it was time to get the handcuffs on. Sam did the leg irons as Deeks clicked the wrist ones closed. A quick jingle of the chains assured Sam that they were all done properly. They felt the vehicle go into a slow turn and steadied themselves after the jolt of going over the bumps. Then, the engine went silent.

The door of the cab opened and closed and Deeks knew he only had a few moments to ease Sam's mind. "I'll be okay. Just don't leave me there or let a temp sit at my desk."

Sam gave him a smile. "We've finally got you mostly trained the way we like you. I don't want to have to start over again."

A key was slid into the lock and the two men got into character. A scowl fell on Deeks' face and Sam stopped smiling. Together with Callen Sam helped Deeks climb out of the back of the van. They walked him over to the transfer area and passed over the paperwork Eric had created. The three resisted the urge to look over their shoulders as they went their separate ways. The partners shared a look once they were back in the cab of the truck.

"I'm not sure I like this." Sam broke the silence.

"We went under together." Callen pointed out.

"The difference being we were together." Sam shifted in his seat.

"I'd feel better we had a short response time to the prison." Callen admitted.

"Can we put a helicopter on reserve?"

Callen grinned. "We can't, but we know someone who could." He started the van. "Let's get back and do as much as we can."

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><p><strong>AN: **The saga of Charlie's previous 'eventful' adventures can be found in 'Running Rogue'.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** Thanks to db1205, emceejay, TMVH50, Sweet Lu, OhBuddy66, blue dogs rock, wotumba1, knirbenrots, Hoosier65, and ZivaSofia for the reviews!

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><p>Turns out no matter how good your paperwork is, it's never good enough. Deeks held in a sigh as he watched the third person pour through the transfer orders looking for a mistake. He started to think that this was what Hetty did to his forms when he destroyed one of her suits. How else would she know that he missed an 's' in 'Mississippi' that one time?<p>

The woman behind the counter ran through the same questions Deeks had already answered twice. At this point he didn't have to try to not flirt with the lady, he was so annoyed that he had a permanent scowl. He didn't like being pissy normally, but since that was Charlie's normal state, it was working out okay.

Finally, after all the finger printing, pictures, verification, and extra verification, he was given a new set of clothes and told to change. A pile of bed linens were passed over and then he was prod in the direction of a gruff man. He went over the rules, which Deeks pretended not to listen to but was actually trying to memorize as much as possible. The man and another guard sandwiched Deeks between them and the three of them headed out into the prison.

Deeks kept his head down and his jaw clenched as they strode through the hallways. Some people clearly didn't care that someone new was entering their area, but there were others that were quite intrigued. The wing was arranged with two levels surrounding an open atrium with tables and benches bolted to the floor. As they climbed the stairs he let his eyes flick across those at the tables looking for his contact. He was pointed into an empty cell and the guards turned to walk away.

"What, no roomie?" Deeks said, careful to have no extra meaning behind the words.

"Don't get comfortable, transfer, you'll be heading out again." The gruff guard replied.

Left alone, Deeks unpacked his meager belongs, or, he laid out his blanket and plopped his pillow down. Then he went hunting.

He walked the edge of the room, careful to stay far enough away from the open cell doors and any clusters of inmates. He landed at a pole behind the table where his target sat. He leaned against it, careful to keep his back to a solid wall, one hand hooked in his pants and the other hanging by his side. His contact, who clearly wasn't one of those social butterflies sat at the table alone in the seat that gave Deeks a good look at his profile.

In voice loud enough to be heard but not loud enough to be overheard, Deeks said "I guess when your number's up, you land in the convict column."

The man replied, "That's an odd statement."

"Even if it is, I think you can add up what I mean." When his eyes moved to the side Deeks nodded at him. Then he pushed himself off the wall and kept walking in the circle.

The first contact had been made.

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><p>Callen and Sam walked back into Ops just in time to hear Eric let out a whoop.<p>

"Finally beat Hetty on that video game?" Sam asked.

Eric spun in his chair. "No, but we tied once." He pointed at a screen grab. "Deeks, or Charlie, has officially been processed into jail and I managed to coerce them electronically into putting him into the contact's wing."

"That was what was supposed to happen, so why are you so excited?" Callen's brow furrowed.

"Because for a time it looked like it wasn't going to happen." Nell pushed away from the table. "For some reason their security is higher than normal."

"But my backstopping paid off, he's in." Eric grinned. "I'm glad I took the time to rebuild his cover. It was a mess when we got it from LAPD."

"Not everyone has the resources we have." Nell pointed out, but she still grinned back.

"What do we do now, we have to wait to see what Deeks finds, right?" Eric gently spun his chair back and forth with his foot.

"No, we need to know who we might be dealing with. Is Kensi done going through the file?"

"Yes" Kensi entered the room and dropped the stack of papers on the table. "Unfortunately it doesn't narrow down the target organization by much." She pulled a list out of the front. "Clark wrote that from their conversations he figured out that it's not a domestic group, but they do have people in the States. There are at least three members in the prison and they've claimed responsibility for at least one attack but he doesn't know where." She shrugged, "The rest of the file is on this Bartimaeus Hoover and his time in prison."

"Eric, start looking into the population of the prison to see if you can narrow down who this organization could be. Nell, find out why security is raised – I don't want Deeks mixed up in the middle of something." Callen watched as they went to work. "We need to decide on contingency plans. How are we getting him out if something goes wrong." Kensi and Sam nodded and they headed down to their desks.

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><p>Deeks wandered back to his new home and leaned against the railing. From there he had a decent view of the room below and he spent some time scanning the people. He found one person that his team had personally put in prison, but considering Deeks had his hair slicked back during that op he was somewhat confident that he wouldn't be recognized. He avoided the direct gaze of anyone and after a while he felt like he had a decent handle on the hierarchy of the wing. Even if he didn't plan on being here very long he wanted to leave with all his pieces attached and intact.<p>

His contact broke up his thoughts when he walked past and whispered, "The library's a nice place, especially now that the AA meeting is over." Deeks watched out of the corner of his eye as he walked into his cell and re-emerged with a book tucked under his arm. Deeks had seen the sign for the library so he headed down the other staircase and towards the room.

This was it, the face-to-face contact he'd been sent under for.

He just hoped it wasn't a trap.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN: **Just wanted to give a shout-out to all who have favourited and followed this story, hope you're all liking it! Thanks to blue dogs rock, kath46, wotumba1, Guest M, OhBuddy66, TMVH50, knirbenrots, and ZivaSofia for the reviews, they're always appreciated (and sometimes get incorporated into the next stages of the story).

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><p>The library was tucked behind the cafeteria and the route took Deeks past a few more features of the wing. He scanned the tables and counter of the cafeteria as he strolled past. There was a session room with chairs tucked in a circle half-filled with a group that looked like they would rather be anywhere else. He also saw the shower room which sent a quick shiver up his spine as he recalled his promise to Sam. A smile crept on his face as he imagined the fall-out if he were to end up with a home-made knife in his side – Sam would split his time between berating Deeks, whether dead or alive, and making the attacker pay in new and inventive ways. Sam had his back, he just couldn't pass up a teachable moment to point out where Deeks could improve. There was a reason why Callen tended to disappear at times when he and Sam were spending a bit too much time together.<p>

Deeks turned into the library and found it surprisingly cozy. The high windows bathed the room in a golden glow and the shelves were filled edge to edge with books. There was a row of computers against the one wall but the sign informed all that they could only be used with permission and the opportunity had to be earned. That narrowed down his choices of passing on his gathered information to one means: telephone. It was decided that they weren't going to risk a face-to-face so that as much of the team as possible was unknown to the prison staff, especially since anyone could be easily pegged as NCIS staff. He noticed Bart, as he preferred according to the file, stacking books near the back. A slow walk around the stack brought him back-to-back to Bart and Deeks slid a book off the shelf and started to flip through.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Deeks kept his voice quiet even though the only other people in the room were clearly engrossed in their books where they sat at the other end.

Bart scoffed just as quietly. "You think you can drop some oddly phrased sentences and I'll tell you everything I know."

Deeks didn't really know how to answer that question, seeing as he thought the answer was 'yes', but clearly Bart did not agree.

"Part of what I need is to know that I'll be protected when all this is over. I'm not trusting this information to just anyone. Let's see how well you do protecting yourself tonight. We'll meet back here tomorrow…that is, if you're still alive." Bart jammed the last book into its home and stalked back to the chairs leaving Deeks to stare at the rack of books in front of him.

"That could've gone better." Deeks groused to himself, but he grudgingly admitted that the man had a point. If he couldn't keep himself out of danger, how could he promise the same thing to a guy who had nowhere to run? He flipped through another few books and then selected one to take with him. Since he had no roommate he needed something to do tonight. There was no card and no check-out counter so he left the room without a glance at Bart and headed out towards the main room.

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><p>Granger resisted the urge to scratch at his head. He had a perfect spot, perched at this table. As long as he kept his head down and buried in the papers in front of him no one would notice him. He appeared to be reading but he was really listening and listening hard. It was amazing what people would say when they sat near someone with earphones in. Little did they know they weren't connected to anything turned on. Sure, his iPod appeared to playing music, but he didn't hear any of it. Instead, he heard every word they said. His own little code copied down anything he thought would be remotely important. He hid a grin, it had been a while since he'd done this kind of work but he found he missed it a bit. Then again, it was going to be short so maybe it was just the nostalgia for another time that had him in such a good mood. Time would tell, he guessed.<p>

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><p>Kensi announced her entrance to Ops with a deep sigh. Eric's fingers paused on his keyboard as he debated whether or not he had to turn around. The decision was made for him as she plodded over to the table and he heard her plonk her arms onto it. He finished his coding and then spun his chair around.<p>

"What's up?" He took in the scowl on her face and tried not to be worried about losing a limb or something now that Deeks wasn't around for her to box with.

"Sam and Callen are plotting their tank manoeuvers for getting into the prison. I left when it started to get out of hand."

Eric started and stopped several sentences including "Why…", "How…", and "Out of…" He chose instead to stay silent on the subject.

Kensi looked up from where she was tracing a design on the edge of the table and pierced him with a look. "Did you really tie with Hetty?"

Eric opened his mouth to answer but Nell chose that moment to sweep through the room and answer for him.

"No."

"I did so, there was that moment…" He indignantly pointed out.

Nell spoke over his protests to Kensi, "He only did in his own mind."

Eric slammed his mouth shut and pouted. Nell's only response was to grab something and then sweep back out of the room again. The one corner of Kensi's mouth curled up and Eric no longer feared that he'd be forced into being a sparring partner.

Kensi let out a smaller sigh than before and narrowed her eyes at Eric. "Is there something I can do here? Callen and Sam don't need much help and I don't want to be around when Hetty finds out what they've been planning. She might be more annoyed than that time she found them rearranging the furniture for the indoor flag football game."

Eric intended to tell her that there wasn't much she could do, especially considering the disaster they both survived when she was not cleared for active duty after Afghanistan, but then she said something else, and he couldn't say no.

"I just don't like the fact that he's in there by himself."

Drat, he couldn't argue with that. He didn't like the fact that Deeks was there alone either. On top of that Eric was working with one hand behind his back because he had to take extra precautions so that his hack wasn't noticed by the increased security. He ran through his workload, searching for something he could hand over.

"There is something, just let me set it up." He turned back to his computer and gathered some files which he sent to the table. He pushed himself out of the chair and opened and arranged the files on the surface. "Here" he pointed to a list "is all the work assignments that this Bart has had. Maybe he came into contact with this information through one of these places. I have some of the population sorted into organizations and I need to know if one of Bart's fellow workers are a part of one of the groups were interested in." He grimaced, "Normally the computer could do this, but I have so many programs running since I just dumped all the data instead of sorting it out at the source, which I couldn't do because I can't let them know I'm in their system, because if they knew..." he paused. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" At Kensi's nod he refocused. "This isn't hard but by doing it ourselves I can eke out a bit more power out of the computer to run more backgrounds quicker."

Kensi looked over the files and nodded. "I can do this." She bit at her lip and glanced at Eric. "Are you sure you can't get a picture of him, just to check if he's okay?"

Eric probably looked as guilty as he felt. "I kind of already did. I grabbed a minute of footage from all the cameras and scanned through them to find him. I should have told you earlier, but I didn't."

Kensi's eyes narrowed, "And?" There was heat behind that word.

"He looks fine, exactly like Charlie did. So far, so good."

A smile edged onto Kensi's face, "Thanks. Now go away so I can work." She shooed him back to his chair, which he did so willingly.

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><p>His book safely stashed by his bed, Deeks started in the direction of the yard. He understood the layout of the indoors, now it was time to become acquainted with the outside section of the wing. It was fairly standard; there was a gym set up in the corner with weights and various equipment. The basketball court was host to an intense game with a group that Deeks decided to discreetly avoid as he was pretty sure it would only take one to squash him like a bug. They reminded him of the former Marines he and Sam went up against back when he was Jason Wyler and Sam was DeMarco Williams. There was a series of bleachers that backed up against the fence and the rest was open space where men were milling in groups. He decided now wasn't the time to make new friends so he turned away from them. Instead, he found a seat on the bleachers and took a moment to catch his breath. He may have zoned out for a moment due to the stress of staying alert without a partner to watch his back. He realized just how used to having a team around him when he felt a hand on his shoulder and warm air rush past his ear.<p>

"What exactly are you doing here?"

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><p><strong>AN:** So this conversation happened: "That's a terrible place to stop the chapter. People will be angry!" "Probably." "Did you plan this?" "…No." "Did you?!" "I definitely did not plan to not do it." "So you planned it." "…Maybe?" "What do you have to say for your behaviour?" "There's another chapter coming next week?" "You sure about that, because you sound a bit hesitant." "It's definitely coming next week." "Fine, but no cookies for you." "Awwwwwww…okay, I deserved that."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** And we're back, thanks for waiting. Thanks to OhBuddy66, blue dogs rock, wotumba1, emceejay, TMVH50, kath46, Guest, Ziva Sofia, knirbenrots, and Hoosier65 for dropping reviews!

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><p>Eric felt like he'd been shocked. He launched himself out of his chair which sent it spinning in a wild circle. He heard Kensi ask what was wrong as he ran to the top of the stairs. He whistled down to Sam and Callen but didn't wait for their pithy remarks before running back to his chair. His focus was on his screen and his keyboard.<p>

Hetty had been walking along the hallway near Ops so she walked in with Callen and Sam close behind her. Nell puffed as she ran in, being the furthest away, and she decided she should probably stop skipping workouts.

Turning away from his computer and back towards the group, Eric's shoulders drooped slightly. "We have a problem." He paused, almost at a loss for words. "I don't know how I missed it, I should've thought about it."

Nell stepped forward, "_We_ should've. We set this up together." Eric's shoulders remained, but a little hope flared.

"What is the problem?" Callen asked, slightly impatient.

"Him." Eric pointed at the screen. All eyes followed and everyone's mouths dropped open in unison.

"How could we have forgotten about him?" Callen looked up at his partner, slightly aghast.

Sam grimaced. "We missed it."

"What do we do?" Kensi asked without taking her eyes off of the picture. "Could this blow the operation?"

"Maybe, maybe not. It's a factor that Deeks didn't prepare for." Callen swiped a hand across the back of his neck. "Eric, can we get a visual on both of them?"

Eric drew in a deep breath. "I can't run a regular scan for them, but I can pull up the security footage that the guards watch in the booth and we can scan them."

"Do it." Hetty gave the order.

With some quick strokes of the keyboard the screen was filled with 16 panels of rotating feeds. Callen organized and assigned the panels into quarters while Eric and Nell tried to pull out some more information from the prison. The video feeds flipped through a series of cameras and the team stared at the images.

"There. Eric, I saw Mr. Deeks on this panel." She pointed at one and Eric blew it up on the big screen. They all waited for that feed to come around again.

What they saw when it did was the two men in question side by side and Hetty voiced what they were all thinking.

"Bugger."

* * *

><p>Deeks turned towards the voice, his arm hugging his side in an attempt to protect his vital organs. He hadn't heard that voice since they both got hauled out of a warehouse in handcuffs in different transport vans. "Hi Billy."<p>

"It's been awhile." The voice sounded kind, but Deeks was afraid to look into his face. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Finally Deeks raised his gaze. "I'm surprised to be here." He was proud that he managed to keep his voice steady considering how much this meeting had blindsided him. He watched as Billy looped around and took a seat on the bleachers. "One minute I was sitting in my cell and the next I was in a transfer van."

"Why?"

Deeks hitched a shoulder. "I think that meat head of a FBI agent and the Navy cops are having a fight and I'm stuck in the middle. They pulled me here for some additional questioning or something."

"I thought we were through with that case." Billy shook his head, "We're already stuck in jail, you'd think we could just serve our time in peace."

Deeks opened his mouth to respond, but a bell rang off the concrete building. He frowned, unfamiliar with what the signal meant.

Billy clapped a hand on Deeks' knee. "Dinner time, Navy style." He jerked his head towards the building and the two walked together inside.

* * *

><p>"I don't like this." Callen paced the length of Ops, one arm crossed and with the other hand jammed under his chin.<p>

Kensi glared at the screen, waiting for the right feed to pop up again, and didn't take the bait. But Sam did, "Why not?"

Callen spun on his heel and face back towards Eric's back. "Deeks has run into Billy twice."

"That we know of." Sam cut in. Callen acknowledged him with a nod.

"What do we know about Deeks' first stint undercover with him?" Callen turned back and kept walking. "He worked his all the way up to being a trusted member of Billy's inner circle. When the final raid went down, Billy was nowhere to be seen and one of his sidekicks took the fall for the whole criminal enterprise along with a few other members which the reports allude to being people that Billy wasn't trusting anymore. Basically he got rid of all his squeaking wheels in one swoop. But, the reports also call the operation a success even though the main target was still free at the end."

Sam squinted. "It also sounded like the people who were arrested were willing to testify against Billy, for some sort of deal of course, but it wasn't pursued by the cops or the DA."

"There's a piece of the story that we're missing."

Kensi stood up tall and, with heat in her eyes, hissed at Callen "Are you implying Deeks did something?"

Callen and Sam took a mental step back from the riled agent. Callen shook his head. "No."

"Good." She threw her chin up and went back to staring at the security videos.

Sam and Callen exchanged a look and then Sam said in a low voice, "Do you remember how Deeks had a little chat with the prosecutor when they were tying up Billy's deal the second time around?"

"He's got some sort of weird soft spot for him." Callen wrinkled his forehead. "It could get him into trouble…again." He tipped his head to the side, "Then again, this could definitely work in his favour; having someone who vouches for his alias will definitely tip the scales if someone's unsure if he's a cop or not. I think this will be good for the case."

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I picked him up from the airport when he came back from recording testimony in Hawaii, he was a bit off. He covered it up well, but I think he was still grappling with something."

"Some aliases don't go back in the box as easy as others." Callen shrugged. "Let's keep planning for the worst and hoping for the best."

* * *

><p>Deeks followed Billy into the line for food. Meeting Billy had put Deeks into a bit of a tailspin and he wasn't happy about this little trip down memory lane. His purpose here was to get in, pump the informant for his information, and then disappear. Instead he'd been pulled back into Billy's orbit; a place he knew wasn't good for him. He shuffled through the line, watching as pieces of a meal were compiled on his tray. Billy led them to a table nearer to the back and they sat down beside another man who was part way through his dinner already.<p>

"This is Dave. We play cards together." Billy said, semi-introducing the man beside him.

Deeks nodded, knowing he was better off to say as little as possible.

"So the last I heard, that FBI agent was threatening to stash you in North Dakota."

"Close, I ended up in Wisconsin; there's no prisons in North Dakota." He took a bite and tried to steer the conversation off of himself. "What's it like here?"

Billy shared a look with Dave and shrugged. "It's different than state prisons, this being a Navy brig." He smirked at his use of naval terminology, "You pick some of the lingo up by osmosis here." He added as an aside. "Everyone here are serving time for crimes against the Navy so you don't get the gangs like other jails. There's also the former Navy and Marine personnel, and even though their criminals just like us, they seem to think they're still in the Navy. Don't say anything bad about our armed forces in here or you will be beaten to a bloody pulp. Then there's the random terrorists that ban together in an attempt to protect themselves from the quasi-military types." He pointed with his fork. "They travel in a pack, if one of them gets left behind, it's usually because they've done something and are basically being offered up to them." His fork moved to gesture towards a group of muscled men chowing down. "Once a Marine, always a Marine."

Deeks gulped a bit, he wasn't wrong back in the yard and his first instinct was correct – he was staying away from them at all costs.

Billy saw his reaction and bumped his shoulder with his fist. "Don't worry about it. We'll just stick together like we always do. Plus we have Dave on our side."

Dave huffed. "Lotta good I can do." He shoveled the last of his food into his mouth.

"'Strength in numbers', isn't that one branch of the armed forces' motto?" Billy chuckled.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Let's go grab a table. We should teach the new guy a lesson on how we deal the cards here."

Billy grinned and eyed Deeks, "Hopefully you haven't lost a step."

Deeks gave him a wolfish grin, he'd spectacularly lost a couple hands against Hetty and had come away with more knowledge in that little time than he'd learned through his entire life. He'd be the one teaching these two.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** Thanks to blue dogs rock, TMVH50, wotumba1, Sweet Lu, knirbenrots, Hoosier65, and Ziva Sofia for the reviews!

* * *

><p>The solid clunk behind him signalled that Deeks and all the other inmates were officially locked in their cells for the night. He felt some of the tension he'd been carrying for the whole day slide off his shoulders. Here he was safe, here he could finally relax.<p>

He sat down on his bed and felt for the book tucked by his pillow. With no window the only light came from the atrium. It wasn't enough to read and he didn't know what the rules were regarding the light encased in metal grating jammed into the wall. The smell of the paper, however, brought him back to his law school days; books that lived in libraries going from hand to hand always had that distinct smell. It brought a slight smile to his face and he played with the pages as he thought about his evening.

A deck of cards had appeared in front of Dave and he began to shuffle them. Deeks had watched as the cards spun this way and that, the effect of the movement was almost mesmerizing – which was probably the point. A flicker of a smirk raced across his face as he remembered seeing one card flick back into Dave's sleeve. So it was the backroom rules then. They had played poker by every rule imaginable. First it was 5-Card Stud, then they played by Omaha rules for a hand, then back to a version of Stud that was clearly Dave's invention. The rules for each hand were called out in a rapid pace before the cards were dealt. They played for toothpicks and while it was assumed that Dave and Billy would win back all the ones they spotted Deeks, there was a pile sitting on the table opposite him that proved them wrong. They had a transient audience through the evening that hopefully solidified Deeks' cover. By the end of the night he wasn't dead, which was his main goal, and he did see Bart flitting around the edges of the group watching his performance. He still needed to get the guy to actually talk, but he was confident he wasn't going to outright refuse anymore. He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come.

* * *

><p>The last of the sunlight drifted through the windows and did its best to set the walls on fire. It was as if the sun had to go out with flair each night and the combination of high windows and brightly coloured walls in the office was the perfect stage for its show. Kensi sat at Deeks' desk, because it had a better viewpoint, and smiled as the dust danced in the light.<p>

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Hetty came up behind her shoulder and watched the show.

Kensi nodded in response. When the last bits of light floated away, Kensi eyed the various knickknacks perched on Deeks' desk. "I know he's been gone less than a day, but if feels so much longer."

Hetty paced to where Kensi could see her. "It's tough being the one left behind."

"I hated sending him out and not being there to back him up."

"That is a feeling that never goes away, no matter how many times you have to do it."

Kensi raised her eyes to see Hetty staring off into the distance, and she knew they weren't just talking about this present operation.

"However, when you send someone out, at least you know the details. It's worse when one decides to go off on their own." Hetty turned her head and Kensi saw the reprimand written across her face.

"That part kind of gets lost and forgotten." Kensi mumbled, groping for something to say.

Hetty's face softened, "This is why you have partners." She smiled. "I'm happy to say I've almost trained you. Callen's even brought Sam along on his last few excursions."

Kensi huffed, "I can't even shake Deeks when I try."

A laugh burst out of Hetty, "Well, he is a detective – quite a good one, too."

"He's going to be okay, right?" Kensi's fingers played with the edge of the desk.

"He is very skilled at what he does, that much we know. Now, we trust his abilities and instincts." Hetty said with authority.

Kensi smiled, "Like you do every day with the whole team?"

"Exactly, Miss Blye, exactly."

* * *

><p>Deeks startled awake and it took a few minutes to gain his bearings back. His eyes bounced around the cell, cataloguing the furniture. The bed frame dug into his back through the thin mattress and he bit back a groan where it had caused a knot. He must have fallen asleep sometime last night, but he was glad he did. He'd spent an unknown amount of time, thanks to lacking a clock or anyway to measure time besides estimating it in his head, trying to refocus on his mission but Billy's presence kept distracting him.<p>

He took the intrusion as a sign that he should focus on that for a time instead. So, there he sat, running all the past events through his mind like he was unspooling a film reel. He started with his first stint undercover with Billy, the time spent working his way up in the organization and then in his inner-circle. After the arrests were made Deeks stayed deep in the background getting updates from the detectives and lawyers who had been on the case while he'd been undercover. He'd known when he dropped all of Charlie's ID and personal items into the file box that this alias wasn't the same as the others he'd played. Max Gentry had joined that list later for different reasons, and both those covers had been forced out of retirement for similar reasons. He'd been recognized as Charlie while working a case which had been the beginning of his second outing. It'd been unlike the first time in many ways, but the one with the biggest impact was the people he had backing him up. The sheer volume of them had given the case a weird feel – he never thought an undercover stint could be so crowded with support personnel.

The ramifications from that operation rung as deep as the first. He'd had a more complete look at the prosecution process on the second one and that's where the problems started. For a criminal Billy had a surprisingly high morality. He'd struggled with how concerned Billy was with his wellbeing and the guilt had settled in. The straight-up bad guys were easy to put behind bars. It finally dawned on him that he didn't mind playing Charlie, it was the connection to Billy that led to his aversion. The fact that Billy was right in the middle of yet another operation was inconvenient but he still had a job to do.

It was possible that he fell asleep soon after that series of small revelations because Deeks didn't recall much after that. He rubbed at his eyes and lay back for a moment to run through his goals for the day. He needed to make contact with Bart again to get his information. He had to pass it on. He should create a plan to confirm as much of the information as he could and add to it if possible. All while dealing with a ghost from his past that kept popping up and not revealing he was actually a cop.

"I need a really good breakfast." He mumbled to himself as the warning came through the speakers that the doors were opening.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** Thanks to OhBuddy66, blue dogs rock, TMVH50, wotumba1, knirbenrots, and Ziva Sofia for the reviews on the last chapter!

* * *

><p>Breakfast wasn't much different than dinner last night; the depressions in the tray were filled with the components of a meal that seemed to be the most economical version of a healthy breakfast. At least there was orange juice that tasted like it was from actual oranges. He wasn't sure if that applied to the eggs as well. It turned out that Dave's cell was only a couple down, so Deeks was able to tag along behind him through the whole process.<p>

If Hetty was going to make him write a report on his activities while in jail, it wouldn't be a long story. He stuck with Billy and Dave who introduced him to some of the people they associated with. They had a section of ground to call their own out in the yard where they milled around. Deeks kept his mouth shut for the most part and listened to the stories floating about.

It actually was a bit educational. The topic of the morning seemed to be interrogation techniques and various methods of throwing investigators off. He knew of most of the ideas they were discussing and they weren't as successful as the cons thought. He did pick up one or two hints he planned to share with the rest of the team.

But seriously, how did these guys really think that asserting that you've never heard of the victim would throw the detectives off? The first rule of interrogations is to know the answers to the questions before they're asked. Fishing for information is an inefficient way of moving an investigation forward. Nevertheless, Deeks was getting a unique view into the people who sat across the table from him.

Lunch brought no surprises in the food department, but Bart did manage to weasel his way to Deeks when he wasn't sandwiched in between his new group of friends and pass on a message. This was the reason why he was keeping one eye on his cards and one on the big ticking clock over the guard house. He'd grabbed that seat at the table for that purpose.

The time inched past the hour and he moved to torpedo the next couple hands. He was trying to give himself a reason to walk out of the game while not doing it at an obvious time; leaving the game bang on the hour would look suspicious.

He dropped his cards on the table and groaned.

"It appears the card gods have turned on you." Dave said with a Cheshire grin.

"They're definitely not doing me any favours." He leaned back and cracked his neck. "I gotta walk off some of this pain."

Billy laughed. "There's no city block to wear a path in here." He waved a finger at him "Don't think I've forgotten your random jaunts through the neighbourhood."

Those jaunts had given him the opportunity to get in touch with the case officer. But he didn't tell Billy that. "I have to drop off a book in the library anyway."

Dave raised his eyebrows but Billy didn't. "You just got here yesterday." Then he nodded, "I did forget about how you used to destroy books."

"I'm good at speed reading." He hitched a shoulder up. It was a skill he picked up in law school.

Another thing he didn't share with Billy.

"I'll be back. Keep my seat warm." He turned and headed up to grab the book. Any time he spent on the upper catwalk gave him the opportunity to scan the crowd. Patterns began to emerge and he tried to remember them all, but without a more pointed strategy he was focussing on people that weren't important. He shook his head to rearrange his bangs and to hide the frustration he was sure was written across his face. Bart had to give him something today.

He retraced the path he took yesterday and found the library was much the same as it was then. Bart made eye contact for where he was standing behind a high desk. Deeks moved towards him and dropped the paperback on the counter. Bart jerked his head in the direction of the back corner and then went back to stacking books on a cart.

With some trepidation Deeks edged around the shelves and checked the area before approaching the table in the corner. Since there was no one around, some of the tension eased. There on the table was an uneven stack of books. He frowned and spun in a slow circle. Everywhere else the books were carefully arranged on the shelves, even the cart that Bart was packing was arranged from large to small books. Clearly this was a man who was orderly and yet there was this haphazard stack. He leaned against the closest shelf where he was tucked away from sight. He squinted at the spines and read the titles and authors again. Nothing was jumping out at him until the second time.

There was one column of words that were perfectly centered all the way down the spines. When he read them from top to bottom he realized he was reading a list of names. Seven books making up three sets of first and last names but the final one read 'The Last Man' by Vince Flynn.

Bart pushed the cart around the corner. "I like to have this place tidied before the guards come in, so if you're done?" His eyes flicked over to the stack when he said 'guards'.

Deeks nodded, "That's at 4, right?"

The tightness around Bart's eyes released slightly. "That's right." He hefted the books off of the table and dropped them on the cart.

Casually, Deeks asked a question, "What's the procedure with calling out here?"

Bart shrugged. "Ask at the guard station. If you haven't annoyed them, they'll usually let you do it then. Otherwise they'll make you wait."

"Thanks." Deeks plucked a book off of the cart and tucked it under his arm. Time to go visit the guards.

* * *

><p>Deeks picked up the phone and poked at the numbers. He listened to the female voice give him the spiel about charges and such and then waited as it rang. The guard held no ill will towards him, but still told him to come back in half an hour as there wasn't anyone to supervise him at that time. He went back to the game and played until he got a wave from the same guard. He'd passed off his call as his weekly one to his sister. However, he added, since he'd been moved so abruptly, it wouldn't surprise him if she'd be demanding daily calls now.<p>

Nell's 'hello' filtered through the earpiece. It was agreed that she would talk just in case one of their targets had managed to tap the phone lines.

"Hi sis, it's good to hear your voice." Deeks winced on the inside, realizing he sounded a lot gruffer than he did merely a day ago. He explained how he'd moved prisons, keeping it as short as possible.

"How's it going?" She sounded the right amount of worried.

"Y'know, same view, same food, different people. I never needed help making friends, though, so I'm not lonely." He was the right amount of exasperated, answering his 'sister's' concerns.

"Do you need anything?" She was trying to ask open-ended questions so Deeks had the opportunity to say what he wanted.

"Kind of bummed they didn't ship my stuff with me, I realized this is supposed to be a short stay, but this agent's a pain in the ass. I wouldn't be surprised if he's going to yank my chain here for a few months. I wanted to read the last Hunger Games book Mockingjay again now that I've seen the third movie. It's annoying…seeing the first three and then not knowing what the fourth one's like."

Nell waited a beat. "But you're in prison, how did you see the movie? It just came out!"

Deeks snorted. "There's a pipeline for anything from drugs to underwear, how hard do you think it is to throw a pirated copy of a movie on top of the pile? Any movie with the Hemsworth brothers always packs the room."

"I could send you some things if you want."

"No, not yet, I'll let you know what I'm missing." They said their goodbyes and Deeks hung up the phone, took a breath, and waded back into the chaos.

* * *

><p>Eric threw a transcript of the conversation up on the screen. Callen, Sam, and Kensi scanned the words looking for clues. Nell frowned as she thought through what she'd said.<p>

Sam started. "He said he's made friends so we can assume he's made contact with the target."

Nell pointed to the next lines, "He referenced having seen three out of the four movies, do you think that means he's identified three out of four of the guards?"

Callen nodded. "That makes sense. Then he talks about the Hemsworth brothers, maybe that's the name of two of the guards."

Kensi shook her head. "No, there's three of them." She huffed. "He went on a rant during a stake-out that there's so many 'third siblings' that people forget about. I think he was trying to make a point after you two left him behind in the car when you went out to that high end gentleman's club."

"He didn't have the look for that place." Sam rolled his eyes. "We explained that to him."

"Didn't stop him from pouting the entire night." Kensi huffed, "You could've at least brought him something back."

"There was no way to fit a cigarette girl in my coat and smuggle her out." Callen interjected and then smiled, "And not due to a lack of trying."

"I am so glad he's not here right now." Kensi dropped her head into her hands. "He'd have material for the next month worth of drives."

Eric waved his tablet. "Not to interrupt, but there's one guard named Liam, two Lukes, and fourteen variations of Chris that are both male and female."

Callen scanned the list. "Start cross-referencing their shifts and see which combination makes the most sense." He clenched his jaw. "Let's get this done."


	8. Chapter 8

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN: **Thanks to knirbenrots, wotumba1, blue dogs rock, mocha mocha doll, OhBuddy66, Hoosier65, TMVH50, Guest (merci, je comprends avec seulement un peu de difficulte), and Ziva Sofia (I try to update weekly on the day of the week that I first posted the story, so this one is updated on Saturdays) for the reviews!

* * *

><p>"Where are we?" Callen asked Nell. The team had headed up the stairs following a shrill whistle from Eric. They found the pair standing ready with tablets in hand.<p>

"I've gone through the prisoners and created a list of active terrorist cells represented in the population." Eric pointed at a list on the screen. He tapped his tablet on his palm, "There's only one problem – there could be an organization that we don't know about. I'm trying to cross-reference work assignments to see if there is a group that is spending more time with each other, but it'll take the computer some time to crunch the data."

"What about the other part?" Callen's question raised some eyebrows as no one else besides Eric knew what he was talking about.

Eric nodded. "He's restricted to his wing and his yard time is solitary as well. There's no way Janvier will come face-to-face with Deeks."

"Let me know if that changes. We don't know how much he knows about us."

Kensi frowned, "Do you think he could do something? How…"

Callen cut her off. "We can't think about that right now, we can't do anything about it anyway. No sense worrying about it if we can't control it."

Nell stepped forward, "As for the heightened security, I had some help with that." She tapped a button on her tablet.

A voice filled the room from the speakers. "Is everyone present?"

"Yes." Nell answered.

"Good." Granger continued, "What have you learned?"

"According to the Navy, there's nothing happening. The only way we, or anyone, could tell that security was tighter was because we tracked Deeks through the admission process." Nell shrugged.

"Where are you?" Callen was slightly put out, they could hear his voice but clearly he wasn't skyping with them.

"In a hotel that's a few steps above a hole I was forced to hide in during a tour in Iraq."

"Why?" Sam drew out the word, knowing he wasn't telling them something.

"Because the warden requested an off-the-books audit from a mutual friend in the accounting department. I'm assisting him."

"In the prison? Callen narrowed his eyes at Sam; they were both thinking the same thing. If the wrong people discovered that the Assistant Director of NCIS was in the building, Deeks could be put in trouble.

"I've done undercover work before. The warden doesn't know and our mutual friend is a skittish type. If he thinks I can smooth over any fallout he's not going to rat me out. That's most likely the reason he clued me into the audit in the first place."

"So you know the reason behind the tightened security?" Sam asked.

"They know they have an internal problem. The annual background checks of the guards came back with some slight issues. Not enough to send up any red flags, but the warden wants to be proactive. He's stuck, though, because he can't do anything without more evidence."

Nell nodded at Eric, "We can send you the list of possible names Deeks passed on. Maybe the ones we're looking for are already on the warden's radar."

"Good. I'll be going back in tomorrow."

A beep sounded, ending the call. Callen glanced sideways at Nell, "Do you know why he didn't video chat in like normal?"

Nell shook her head, "I have no idea. He knows how to use it and his computer is in working order."

Callen got a contemplative look. "And he said that he's done undercover work before, but how does the Assistant Director of NCIS hide?"

Kensi smirked, "Undercover Boss does it all the time. Maybe he threw on a wig and a pair of glasses."

The five looked around at each other in silence, all contemplating that image.

Eric snapped his finger. "If I wasn't trying to keep my worm in their system so quiet I'd check the security cameras."

"Could you imagine? Granger with hair?" Callen laughed.

"If such a thing exists, you know who would have the proof." Sam smiled, his dimples coming out to play. All heads turned to look in the general direction of Hetty's office.

Downstairs, sitting behind her desk sipping a cup of tea, Hetty felt a disturbance in the force. It was as if she was being watched. Her head turned up to Ops and she wondered what they were plotting up there. Before she could create her own plan to find out, her phone rang.

"Hello." She answered.

"Ms. Lange, you have a chopper on standby for the next three days."

"Thank you, Ethan. You will be able to continue without it?"

"Yes, it's not booked for any TV or movie shoots for the next week and I'll tell anyone who calls in an emergency that it's out for maintenance."

"Excellent."

"Would you like me to put a logo on the side, perhaps FBI or LAPD?"

Hetty chuckled. "No, thank you, that won't be necessary. I'll send you a check at the end and a courier will be arriving with the Oolong I promised you."

"Pleasure doing business with you, as it always is."

"You as well." She replaced the phone and headed to her closet to wrap up the promised tea. They had their chopper.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Granger was back in his chair, surrounded by piles of files. The skittish accountant was making a show of congratulating the in-house staff of how clean and neat the books were. This was because Granger had <em>suggested<em> to him that he distract their babysitters so Granger could do some real work. He had waited until they were deep into the weeds on some minute detail before slipping a portable scanner out of his briefcase.

The machine was barely wider than a sheet of paper and only a couple inches long. He plugged it into his computer and made sure it was hidden behind the stacks. Then he got to work on one specific pile. He had sorted them out right when he got into this little room under the pretense of randomly grabbing them. There sat the folders that corresponded to the list Nell had sent. He flipped open the first one and started paging through it. Obviously anything that was typed would be available on the servers which Eric and Nell would be combing through. That wasn't what he was interested in.

There was something special about paper files. Since they only existed in locked filing cabinets and were usually forgotten about, people tended to put things in them and forget about them. Others might try to bury information in them. In theory these files would be reviewed on a regular basis, but in reality most auditors flipped through the top few pages and then moved on. There was gold to be found in these files and Granger intended to find it.

"Bingo" Granger said quietly under his breath as he stared down at a handwritten incident report near the back of the fourth file. He peered over the wall of papers to check if the other table was still occupied. Since they were, he fed the paper into the scanner and hit the button. As soon as it was spit out the other side he put it back where it was and kept flipping.

* * *

><p>"This is the day." Deeks whispered to himself when he opened his eyes. "This is the day I get out of here." He sat up on his cot and stared out through the bars. He couldn't explain where the feeling came from, but there was a tugging in his gut telling him that he'd be outside these walls tonight. Unfortunately the tugging wasn't telling him what kind of shape he'd be in but he chose to stay positive. He was getting out of this prison, one way or another.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN:** Thanks to OhBuddy66, Sprig, blue dogs rock, wotumba1, TMVH50, knirbenrots, Hoosier65, Guest, and Ziva Sofia for the reviews! Much appreciated.

* * *

><p>"I gotta take a piss." Deeks pushed himself up off the bench. He'd been watching all morning and confirmed his suspicion when he ran into Bart returning his lunch tray. The three guards that Bart had identified were on duty together in the wing. There was only one more guard and Deeks had a bad feeling that he was the last of the quartet.<p>

He knew he was heading into a precarious situation. The safest course of action would be to get on the phone and call the team, but he didn't get to be part of Hetty's team by choosing the safe option. It wasn't like he planning to take on the four suspects single-handedly, he just wanted a little bit more information before calling in the cavalry. He really didn't want to cry wolf on five different suspects. He was just planning on doing a tiny bit more intel gathering.

At least that's what he was telling himself as he pushed open the door of the bathroom he saw the fourth guard go through moments ago. As he rounded the corner into the main section several thoughts collided in his head in quick succession.

He processed the scene in front of him: a man in prison garb handing a sheaf of paper to that fourth guard.

He watched as they turned to see him.

He saw their faces run through the scene as well; surprise at his presence, anger at his intrusion, and the realization that he saw what they were doing.

He recognized that he had done a lot more than a bit more intel gathering.

He was screwed.

* * *

><p>The whistle signalled the team's presence and they took the stairs quickly. They lined up in front of the table and Callen nodded at Eric to begin.<p>

"So I built an algorithm and we waded through all the suspects, taking into account their banking, purchases, travel…"

Callen waved at Eric, "This time, skip to the good bit."

Eric nodded, realizing he was kind of babbling anyway. "His name is Herb Lawrence." He tapped the screen of his tablet, sending a picture up to the screen. "He seems to be the epicentre of this group. We had to dig, but we found four offshore accounts in their names." He tapped again and three more faces appeared.

Nell pointed to each of them "Meet Luke, Liam, Chris, and Herb. All four are guards and all four have very healthy retirement plans." The balances of the accounts appeared below their names.

"The money comes from an account whose holder we haven't quite identified yet and goes into Herb's account. He then transfers everyone else's cut to their account." Eric added.

"What else do we know about them?" Sam asked, arms crossed.

Eric and Nell shared a rapid look. Eric answered, "All four are on duty today, and they're the only four guards in the wing where Deeks is."

"How long do you need to confirm that these are the suspects?" Callen narrowed his eyes as he peered at the screen.

"I'm not sure. We also don't know who they're working with yet." Eric's shoulders sagged a bit. He hated not having all the answers, but Nell had asserted that they had enough for an update.

Callen turned to face Kensi and Sam. "We have enough to question them on having these accounts."

Kensi frowned, "It might tip our hand."

"It'll also give Eric the time to get the final pieces of evidence." Eric's shoulders straightened at Callen's words.

"Either way, it's enough to move closer to the prison, set up a forward operating base." Sam made the decision.

As the three agents headed out of the room, Callen asked Eric to update Granger.

* * *

><p>Granger had sorted through the whole stack of files on the persons of interest and was left with a much smaller stack than when he started – there were only six of them now. He was beginning his third time through them, trying to narrow it down to the final four when his phone buzzed. He answered it, mindful of the people sitting at the other table.<p>

"Yes?" He kept his voice low.

Eric came over the line and quickly explained what they had learned. Granger looked at the names on the labels of the files and realized he'd been very close to discovering the same thing. He kept his responses to short sentences as Eric laid out how all four guards were on patrol in Deeks' wing presently. He told Eric he'd call back soon and yanked the four files out.

This time, when he went through them he knew exactly what he was looking for. He further confirmed what Eric and Nell had found and added his own evidence. The files were quickly jammed into his rolling file box and he clipped the locks shut after he quietly dumped his laptop on top. He made an excuse to the auditor and his audience about stretching his legs and left the room. Some long strides brought him right to the door of the warden. He ignored the surprised squeak of his secretary and went right into his office. With the door locked behind him, he fixed the warden with a stare.

"You have a serious problem."

The warden looked up from his desk in surprise. "Excuse me? Who are you?"

Granger paced in front of his desk. "I was brought in by our mutual friend, the man pouring over your books."

"You're not another accountant, are you?" At the shake of Granger's head, the warden sighed. "You're someone much higher up." Granger nodded. "How much trouble am I in, should I be drafting a resignation letter?"

Granger tipped his head to the side. "Depends on how the next few hours play out. I need full access to the prison and a team of your most trusted guards."

The warden scrawled some names on a paper. He called his secretary into his office. "Gloria, I need these four in my office right now. Tell them I want to brief them on a new inmate." She gave Granger a look, but left the room without a word. The warden scrubbed a hand down his face. "What's the problem?"

"Smuggling."

His brows crinkled, "Every prison has a problem with smuggling, it tends to go in waves. I thought we had it down to a manageable level."

Granger shook his head. "Not smuggling _in_, smuggling _out_. Four of the guards are aiding a terrorist organization."

A look of despair came over the warden; his shoulders sagged, he frowned, and his eyelids dropped. "Even being incarcerated doesn't stop these men." He looked up at Granger. "Can we end it?"

"We're going to do whatever it takes. Do you have a problem with that?"

The warden rolled up his sleeve to show off a faded tattoo on his forearm. "I served, I've seen what they do up close. Do what you have to, I'll tell the doc to get some beds ready, he fought them too."

Granger shoved his hands in his pockets. "One other thing, and you're not going to like it. There's an undercover agent working this from the other side."

"He's here as an inmate, isn't he." It was a question, but the warden already knew the answer – Granger's confirming nod was unnecessary. He grunted. Rolling his shoulders, he straightened his back. "What do you need me to do?"

"The rest of the team is on their way, they'll follow up."

Four men walked into the room and the secretary closed the door behind them. The warden stood and nodded at each one. "Gentlemen, you're here because I trust you completely. We have rats within our ranks. This man" he pointed to Granger "is the exterminator. You're to assist him in every way possible. Understood?" He was greeted with a chorus of 'yes sirs'. "Good. Happy hunting." With that, he sat down and the five men left his office.

* * *

><p>The thundering coming from the staircase signalled to Hetty that the team was on the move. She moved over to their desks as they rifled through their drawers.<p>

"Grab what you need and meet outside in 10. It's a long drive and we need to get on the road." Callen's voice was muffled but it carried to Kensi and Sam who grunted in agreement. The three looped around their desks but were brought up short by Hetty's presence.

"And where are you going?" Hetty asked mildly, hands clasped behind her back.

Callen halted and Kensi and Sam flanked him. "We're going to back up Deeks" Callen stated.

"That's a long ways to go." Hetty peered up at her team leader.

A spark flared in Callen's eyes and he set his jaw. Hetty recognized that look. It was the look he got when he had decided to what to do and nothing anyone said would change his mind. It usually preceded him wandering off and going all lone wolf. She peered at the other two standing behind him. The clench of their jaw matched his own.

"Do you think we shouldn't go?" There was a challenge in Callen's voice.

Hetty raised her brows at the question. She unclasped her hands and waved one. "No, no, no." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "I think that driving there is an unnecessary waste of time, especially when there is a helicopter waiting at this address to fly you there." She handed over the paper and watched their jaws unclench. "It will still take some time, but much, much less."

Callen took the paper. "Thanks Hetty, we'll bring him back."

She raised a finger. "Preferably in one piece."

"On it." Sam grinned as he strode past.

Kensi smiled and followed the partners. Hetty turned and watched them prepare to go into battle and silently wished them luck.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN: **Frostfalcon, OhBuddy66, knirbenrots, blue dogs rock, wotumba1, TMVH50, Megth, wollyjumpers, Guest M, Guest (x3) and Ziva Sofia, thanks for your reviews!

* * *

><p>The adrenaline burst through Deeks' veins and his body moved by instinct. Keeping his back facing the wall, he launched himself in the direction of the door. One hand reached out to yank on the handle and he shot himself out of the bathroom. A few fast steps brought him back to the main atrium and in the view of the general population. A bang signalled that he wasn't the only one coming out of the bathroom so he needed to keep moving and plan while he was doing it.<p>

Ideas ran through his mind in rapid sequence. There was no time to send out a distress call and he had no super secret method of sending out a signal to alert the team. On his own, he knew his best chance at survival was to disappear; it was something he'd accomplished before using the streets but in here there were only so many hiding places. He bled into the crowd and searched for the only group he knew for sure weren't involved with a terrorist organization – the former Marines who still held onto their love of country.

He found them hosting an arm-wrestling competition conveniently surrounded by a group of spectators. He wiggled his way into the middle and ducked his head. Here he could wait, here he could plan.

* * *

><p>Granger followed the four guards as they filed into a room off of a corridor. An isolated room with a group of unknown people was not his idea of a good situation so he made sure he had an open route out the door.<p>

"Sir, can we ask who you are?" The guards had formed an uneven line along the one wall.

These men needed some sort of answer but Granger struggled with how much to tell. "NCIS. We've been following a tip that paid off in a big way." He shifted his weight. "Do you have any reservations about turning a co-worker into one of the inmates?"

"Is one of them Chris Jaxon?" The guard at the end was speaking to his shoes, but he said it loud enough to carry throughout the room.

Granger was shocked, but the only outward sign was the slight rise of his eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

The guard peered up from his shoes. "We used to be tight, me and him. Hung out after work when we worked the same wing. Then he was transferred to the new shift. At the time I didn't notice, but the last month or so he was always making excuses as to why he was too busy to make it to our pick-up basketball games. But when someone from HR let it slip that he requested the move I realized he was avoiding me." His voice grew in strength. "I think he made new friends. Friends that he changed for."

"What if he's one of the targets?"

The guard clenched his jaw. "As a member of the law enforcement community, we're supposed to have a higher moral standard. Would you have a problem arresting a fellow officer who's dealing drugs out of the evidence locker?"

Granger shook his head. "It's not an enjoyable day at work, but sometimes it happens."

The man nodded, "I'm Seigler, Stokes, Wyma, and Patterson." He pointed down the line to the rest of the guards. Granger nodded at each one and they straightened up.

"Chris Jaxon is one, and the rest are the other three on duty with him."

The guards shared a look. Seigler sighed, "I guess we shouldn't be surprised. They're pretty tight."

"How do we deal with this?" Granger knew he was out of his depth, he had to rely on them to create a plan of action.

"Well, seeing as the staff will be pulled thin until the next shift comes in, we can put the wing on lockdown so all the inmates are locked in their cells." Wyma, who appeared to be the oldest of the group also had a calm air about him. "The trick is getting them into the cells without a fight."

"There's one other factor." Granger was about to double the amount of people who were aware of Deeks, but he felt he could trust them. "There's one of mine undercover. We don't know his status and I want him out today now that we know who the turncoats are."

An alarm rang through the hallway and all eyes moved to the door. "What's that?" Granger squinted at his new team.

Wyma answered, "It's a lockdown code. Who wants to guess that it's a coincidence?" No one moved. "Alright, this changes the plan, but it could work in our favour."

Patterson shook his head. "We can't do anything now, once a wing's locked down no one can get in or out."

"That's what they tell you." Wyma smiled. "You young'uns, haven't learned the ins and outs of this building."

"You can get us in?" Granger asked.

His grin spread, "I'll get us in."

* * *

><p>Sam screeched the car to a stop in front of a helicopter rental company. They grabbed their bags from the trunk and pounded up to the tarmac where a man was waving to them. After shouting introductions, hand signals got them settled into the helicopter whose rotors were already starting to spin. The man climbed into the pilot seat and once the doors were shut he pushed the controls and rocketed off the tarmac.<p>

"Where'd you learn how to take off like that?" Sam asked through the headsets.

The man they knew as Ethan chuckled. "Used to fly parajumpers. They jump out of planes for living, so they liked to lift off in a way that would get their blood pumping. Don't get to fly like that much anymore." He tapped at a screen. "I know the general direction we're headed but do you have an actual address?"

Callen recited it from memory. Ethan plugged it into his GPS program. "Huh, we're going to prison?"

"Yep." Callen answered.

Ethan laughed. "Picking up, I hope."

The team chuckled, but before anyone responded, Callen's phone rang. Ethan walked him through plugging his headset into the phone. "Yeah Eric, what do you have?"

Eric's voice filtered through the headset to Callen's ears. "We found the source of the money – it's a group called 'The Sword in Allah's Hand'."

"Great." Callen rolled his eyes, sometimes the groups' names became a bit tedious.

"But." Eric paused. "They have all the expected rhetoric that goes with a name like that, denouncing Western civilization and death to all the infidels, but it's all a smokescreen."

"What do you mean?"

"They're what you could call 'capitalism terrorism'. Their target list includes banks and businesses and attacks commonly coincide with bumps or changes in the stock market." Nell answered this part, having been digging through the file produced by the counter-terrorism task force in Washington.

"It's not unheard of for people to benefit from attacks financially."

"Especially if they have prior knowledge." Nell added.

"Are you saying that someone has turned terrorism into a for-profit business?"

"Yep."

"Great." Callen took a moment to curse forward progress and then thought out loud. "How did members end up in this jail?"

Eric's shrug could be heard through the phone line. "Bad luck. They were all swept up in some raid down by the border as they were trying to smuggle into the country."

"What does this mean for us?"

Nell came back on the line. "They're not extremists, they're in this for the money. The short version is, they're willing to do what it takes to launch an attack or protect themselves, but they're not suicidal." She paused. "They'd probably turn on each other for a reward or a lighter sentence."

Callen squinted. "Were the investigators aware of their connections when they were arrested?"

"No, they were sentenced based on the being captured at the border."

"Put a call into whoever's running the investigation into the organization, let them know who we've found."

"Will do." Nell confirmed.

"Also," Eric came back on the line. "Granger sent a message; the warden's expecting you."

"Good. Thanks." Callen hung up the phone and summarized the conversation for Sam and Kensi. Together they sketched out a plan of what they needed to do once they arrived at the prison. Then, all that was left was to enjoy the ride, and wait.

* * *

><p>Wyma paused at an old door and looked up and down the hallway. Seeing that it was clear, he pulled out his key ring and shook through it. Finding an old, dirty key, he pushed it into the lock and jimmied it back and forth until the tumblers popped open. The five quickly filed into an old storage room and Wyma shut the door behind them.<p>

"Welcome to the tunnels." Wyma threw over his shoulder as he looped through the short rows of shelves.

"What is this room?" Patterson peered at the rows of boxes.

"Things people left behind, before everyone was so concerned about 'their property' and took absolutely everything with them." Wyma stopped at a cabinet. "Here, shift this to the side." He pointed at the cabinet. "I'm too old to be doing heavy lifting, least that's what the doctor says."

Patterson and Seigler each grabbed a side. "Since when have you listened to your doctor before?" grunted Patterson.

"Whenever it's advantageous." He grinned and then pointed at a second door. "Voila, instant access to any wing."

Granger looked down the tunnel once Seigler opened the door. "Where does it come out?"

Wyma shifted his belt. "The guard watch room. That's what the spare doors are that everyone asks about. They were put in as a last resort if the prison fell into anarchy."

"Shouldn't we know about these?" Patterson's eyes widened.

"I knew about them." Stokes spoke for the first time. "Maybe once the new-guard smell finally rubs off of you."

Patterson rolled his eyes. "I can't wait for new staff to come in."

"You know now." Stokes strode past and plunged into the tunnel with Patterson and Siegler close on his heels.

Granger adjusted his borrowed gear and launched himself into the tunnel followed by Wyma. Stokes clicked his flashlight on and scanned the walls, following the arrows to lead them to the correct door. As they stacked up beside it, ready to breach into an unknown situation, Granger wished the team luck.

Wyma counted them down, "Three…two…"


	11. Chapter 11

**_Charlie Goes to Jail_**

**Disclaimer:** Standard, don't own the show.  
><strong>AN: **Many thanks to OhBuddy66, Ziva Sofia, blue dogs rock, TMVH50, knirbenrots, wotumba1, Hoosier65, and Guest for the reviews, you motivate me to get writing!

* * *

><p>The klaxons ringing through the rooms was a new experience for Deeks and the sound broke his concentration. His eyes darted around, reading the expressions of the people around him. Most faces held curiosity mixed with annoyance. The people at the table groaned and pushed themselves to their feet to join the throng of bodies that was beginning to move at a slow pace. He watched as the prisoners moseyed towards the cell doors and he began to piece together what the ear-splitting noise was telling them. The grumblings of those around him confirmed his suspicions that this interruption was going to severely impact his plan.<p>

Unable to quietly slip away to his chosen hiding place, he was instead going to have to navigate through the flow of people without alerting the guards to his position. Keeping his head still, he used his eyes to work his way through the pack and towards the right hallway. There was a lack of urgency among the inmates, similar to any group of people forced to conduct a surprise drill. The problem was, for him, this wasn't a drill. And for those hunting him, this was supposed to be a trap.

As he paused at a particularly congested area, he noticed a group of people milling around under a staircase. The flash of light off of a shiny object drew his eye to the guard whispering furiously at one of the members. Deeks clenched his jaw – if the guard was willing to not hide his connection to the group, they had something planned besides asking nicely for him to keep a secret.

He waited for his moment and then darted across the open space to yank on the door handle. He felt a grin split his face when it wasn't locked; finally, something had gone right.

"Charlie, whatcha doin'?" The voice came from over his shoulder.

Instinct kicked in so Deeks spun on his heel, grabbed the front of his shirt, and hauled him into the kitchen along with him. Quickly scanning the room and finding it empty, the way he predicted, he yanked on the hand still holding onto fabric to drag Billy along with him towards the industrial fridge. Wordlessly thanking Hetty for forcing him into participating in cold weather training, something his California-born-and-bred blood seriously protested at the time, he popped the door open, pulling Billy into the fridge with him.

"What's going on?" Billy's voice was steady but his eyebrows had crept up to his hairline.

Deeks, with one eye peering out the window in the door, replied in an ominous tone, "Nothing good."

* * *

><p>"…one."<p>

Stokes carefully turned the handle and eased the door open a slit. After all the adrenaline involved in getting to this point, Granger had to ease his breath through his teeth to calm the blood pulsing through his veins. This was not the moment to bust through the door, guns blazing.

A nod indicated that Stokes had cleared the room. He eased the door open further and slipped through the entry. The blaring siren grew louder once the door opened but it wasn't quite loud enough to cover the sound of movement in the guard booth. A shrill whistle, pushed through teeth signalled that the other four could enter the room.

Wyma slipped into the chair previously occupied by the guard who was now pushed down to the floor with Stokes' hand clamped over his mouth. Through hand signals, Stokes and Seigler brought the guard back into the hidden hallway. Patterson hunkered down below the windows of the booth, halfway between Wyma and the ajar door to pass messages. Granger ducked through the opening as well, finding the guard facedown while Stokes tightened plastic cuffs onto his wrists with Seigler holding a gun to his head.

"Meet Luke. He initiated the alarm and locked down the wing." Seigler's pistol followed his head as Stokes flipped him over and pushed him up against the wall of the hallway. "Probably not the ringleader, more of a follower."

Luke, most likely realizing the futility of trying to yell a warning, chose to sneer at the accusation instead.

Granger, recognizing that they were on a tight time-frame, dispensed with the first stage of an interrogation where the get-to-know-each-other dance occurs and threw a wicked cross. Luke's head cracked to the side and the sound echoed down the bare hallway. He shook his head, straightened his neck and glared up at Granger.

"You not supposed to do that."

Granger shrugged, "I'm also not supposed to put a bullet in your head and leave you here to rot in this secret passageway where no one will find your body."

"I know the rules and with the amount you've broken, you can kiss your job as a guard good-bye." Luke was trying to move his jaw as little as possible so the words were more mumbled than threatening.

Granger leaned in and tipped his head to the side. "What makes you think I'm a guard?" As Luke's eyes widened Granger's scowl grew. "I have a stack of evidence on what you and the other three yahoos have been up to. Here's your chance to avoid an off-shore style prison and land in a nice, comfortable one like this."

Luke shifted and tugged at the cuffs behind his back. The indecision was running across his face, but the three waited patiently for him to come to a conclusion. A sigh broke through and he pushed himself upright. "What do you want?"

"Outline the situation."

"Herb was spotted making a hand-off. The head creep freaked out. It was decided that we'd rather protect our alternative revenue stream than some inmate. The crime disappears with the witness."

Seigler gripped his gun a bit tighter. "Sir, what's the possibility of needing to hit this traitor again?" Stokes nodded in agreement.

"Patience, there's more of him out there." Granger focused back on Luke. "Who's the witness and what's the plan?"

"Some new guy named Charlie." Granger clenched his jaw at the name while Luke shifted again. "I'm supposed to…I was supposed to stay in the booth and watch the cameras while keeping the doors to the wing locked. Liam, Herb, and Chris are sweeping the wing and finding the witness under the pretense that he started a riot or something."

Seigler shook his head. "There wasn't a riot, how'd you plan to explain that?"

Luke just shrugged, "That's Herb's problem."

"I take it that Herb's in charge." Granger nodded at the others. "Let's get moving. Leave him here." Stokes put a second set of cuffs around Luke's ankles.

"What? You can't leave me!" Luke's eyes darted around the darkness of the hall.

"We'll come back." Granger moved towards the doorway. "Maybe." He threw over his shoulder.

The three of them stayed low as they entered the booth. They filled in Patterson and Wyma who kept his eyes on the screens.

"I'm assuming by the look on your face that Charlie's your guy." Seigler stated as he patted down his pockets, taking stock.

"Yes. And if he doesn't come out alive, I'll probably end up dead." Granger groused as he remembered the helicopter of highly trained agents racing towards the prison. "Wyma, do we have positions for the other guards?"

"Affirmative. Patterson'll reset our frequencies so we won't cross signals. I'll guide you in."

"Alright. Lock and load." Granger nodded at his team. They stacked up against the door and silently bled into the now empty atrium.

* * *

><p>"On a scale of one to ten, how bad?"<p>

The corner of Deeks' mouth turned up; Billy was always planning. "I saw something I wasn't supposed to, and I think I have a target on my back now."

Billy shook his head. "You just got here and you're already wrapped up in chaos. You have terrible timing." He rubbed at his arms, "as well as terrible choice in hiding spots." He tipped his head, "Although, you must be used to this kind of cold up in Minnesota."

"Wisconsin." Deeks peeked over at the grinning Billy. "Do some squats, get your blood moving."

Billy huffed, but did as he was told. "What's your plan, I'm assuming you didn't drag me in here because you're missing winter temperatures."

Deeks bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm hoping someone will intervene before the guards find us, but if not," he paused, "might have to fight our way out."

"Too bad, I had a pretty good behaviour record here." Billy cracked his neck. "I just hope something happens before we freeze. Don't want that on my tombstone."

"What, 'Here lies Billy, he somehow managed to freeze to death in the middle of a heatwave' not catchy enough for you?" Deeks smirked.

Billy shook his head. He tapped his toe on the floor. "Charlie, we're going to get through this; we somehow always manage to."

Deeks turned back to the window in the door to hide the guilt that must have been rising to his face. "Yeah, we somehow always do."


End file.
